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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749947">Brimstone and Treacle Won't Work.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niceto_Thetya/pseuds/Niceto_Thetya'>Niceto_Thetya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Missy Episode: s01e01 A Spoonful of Mayhem, Pre-Episode: s07e06 The Snowmen, Smut, Spanking, Submissive Clara Oswin Oswald, Vaginal Fingering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:29:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niceto_Thetya/pseuds/Niceto_Thetya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An extended oneshot from my Femslash February series, following the prompt 'Historical AU'. </p><p>Clara isn't at all fond of the Davis children's new governess. She's constantly cross, cruel to the children, and seems to know far more than she should- by all accounts Clara should avoid her. So why can't she seem to resist?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Missy/Clara Oswin Oswald, Missy/Echo Clara Oswin Oswald</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Brimstone and Treacle Won't Work.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set at some point during 'A Spoonful of Mayhem', but there's no spoilers, and if you haven't seen it no real background on the episode is needed beyond Missy getting trapped in Victorian London and having to work as a governess. Could be read as fully AU if you prefer, there's no specific references to any of the Sci-Fi aspects.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Day Twenty-Seven</strong><br/>
Theme: Historical AU<br/>
Ship: Missy/Clara Oswald</p><p>There was something very, very off about the Davis’ children’s new governess. Of course, plenty of people might say that there was plenty off about Clara herself. They thought she had ideas above her station, and that she’d be a bad influence on the girls, but- well. There was something <em>seriously</em> off about the nanny.</p><p>Unfortunately for her, they seemed to be running into one another a lot recently, since Francesca and Lucy became friends. In all fairness, Clara didn’t see a thing wrong with the Davis girl; she seemed sweet enough, and her mad stories about talking statues could be a lot of fun- she’d have a career as a writer, even if her drawings weren’t up to much. The boy was a handful, but he was so much older than Digby that he rarely bothered them. No, the real issue was that Missy woman.</p><p>They’d gotten into arguments more than once- or, as close to arguing as they could without risking their positions. In honesty it was mostly passive-aggressive verbal, excessively polite verbal sparring matches as they sat on a bench in the park and watched the children run around.</p><p>Still, there were odd occasions where Clara’s temper would overtake her sense, and she’d leave passive aggressive behind and actually confront the woman.</p><p>The last time it’d happened she at least felt she’d had an excuse. Francesca had been up sick the whole night, and in bed ill all day, and neither of them had slept a wink. Eventually Clara been sent off to keep Digby busy so she could get some peace, only to run into that awful woman berating one of her charges about the poor-quality of one of her sketches. Now Lucy Davis was hardly going to be a world class artist, but Clara had known a lot worse, and she couldn’t much see how a child’s drawing could be anywhere near important enough to spark that level of outrage.</p><p>Against her better judgement, she tapped the taller woman on the shoulder.</p><p>“I’m not sure her father would like you shouting at her like that.” Her voice had a blunt edge to it, born mostly of tiredness, but it certainly seemed to get the woman’s attention. She turned those bright blue eyes on Clara, her eyebrows raised, and spoke in her most dangerously sweet tone.</p><p>“And why, pray tell, is that your business?”</p><p>“I dislike the way you speak to those children.”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“I think you know precisely what I mean. You were being downright cruel.”</p><p>“It’s called discipline, dear. Not that I’d expect you to know much about that.”</p><p>“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Clara’s hands flew to her hips- a gesture she tended to avoid when playing this role, but one which served her well enough in dealing with rowdy drunks. Still, she kept her accent up perfectly, stressing each word as though to highlight the difference between herself (or at least her <em>current</em> self) and the Scot.</p><p>Missy got closer, to the point that Clara could feel her breath against her face, and her eyes were narrowed dangerously.</p><p>“It means, <em>Miss Montague</em>, that you are hopelessly out of your depth.” Clara shivered at the way that name sounded falling from the woman’s lips, and it was hard not to wonder whether she’d be able to make her real name sound like that; Like a secret, or a sin, not fit for pleasant company. “In fact, I’m starting to think it’s girls like you who’re crying out for discipline.”</p><p>She fixed Clara with those intense blue eyes for a full minute, before finally taking a step back and shooting her a shark-like grin that made heat pool in her stomach. She had to do her best not to <em>squirm</em> under the searching glare, keeping her mouth shut because frankly she didn’t trust herself to speak.</p><p>Missy clapped hr hands, drawing the children’s attention back onto herself from whatever game they’d set up, and sapping Clara out of whatever stupor she’d sent her into.</p><p>“Children, come on. We have another field trip to go on, so Lucy-“ She gave the girl a sharp look, “Can finish her sketches.”</p><p>Clara heard Lucy whining as the Davis’ children were towed away, but she couldn’t quite snap herself out of whatever that had been and move again, until Digby grabbed her hand.</p><p>“Miss Montague are you alright?”</p><p>“Wot? Yeah. Yeah I’m fine, love.”</p><p>“You’re doing your other voice.” Digby said.</p><p>Clara blinked. Her accent had come through thick and heavy- startled out of her performance by that unsettling woman.</p><p>“Oh. Yeah- so I am.” She gave him a smile, trying to cover up her slip. “Thas’ parta the fun though isn’t it? Our little secret, you ‘n me.” She tapped her nose twice, and he smiled in return, so she was pretty sure she’d gotten away with it.</p><p>Clearing her throat, she managed to switch back easily enough. She took the child’s hand, beginning to pull him further into the park. “Right. So, we have the whole afternoon- the only question is how we should spend it.”</p><p> </p><p>Clara wasn’t sure why she always seemed to wind up in the Rose and Crown on her day off. It wasn’t even a full day off- like pretty much every other governess in the city she spent Sunday morning taking the children to church and then got a few hours to herself before being expected to return and get them into bed.</p><p>By all accounts, the Rose and Crown shouldn’t even have been open, but she doubted there were many pubs in London that actually abided by the Sunday laws. Politicians and police liked a drink at the end of the week as much as the next man, so most were happy to let little places like this get away with using loopholes, or downright lies to keep their doors open.</p><p>At least she hadn’t been roped into actually serving this time, so she was allowed to sit perched on the end of the bar (because maybe she was a pint or two deep now, and enjoying the chance to let her hair down) with an ale in one hand, chatting animatedly with old friends. As much as playing Miss Montague gave her much better prospects, it was still nice to get to be Clara Oswald every now and again.</p><p>Still, good days never did seem to last, and she was half way through listening to one of the barmaid’s saucier stories when she caught a set of chillingly familiar blue eyes watching her from a corner table.</p><p>“Whas she doin’ ‘ere.” Clara muttered, mostly to herself. She glanced at the woman she’d been speaking to, offering her a grin for the story, before saying, “Be back in a mo’, just got to…” and trailing off before she actually had to give an explanation.</p><p>She made a beeline for Missy’s table, taking the seat across from her, and slipping back into her polite governess voice with impressive ease. Obviously, her well-worn red dress- now with an added beer stain from a clumsy patron- hardly fit the voice, but she had to work with what she had.</p><p>“I didn’t expect to see you in here. I suppose it must be your half-day too?”</p><p>Missy raised an eyebrow at her, and she felt her stomach start doing flips again. Whatever it was in the woman’s gaze that had the power to make her go weak at the knees, Clara really needed to get a hold of herself.</p><p>“I enjoy a drink as much as the next woman.”</p><p>The full tankard sitting on the table in front of her, and the fact that Clara hadn’t seen her come up to the bar once, said otherwise.</p><p>“What are you doing here, then?” Clara asked.</p><p>“What are you doing here then?” Missy parroted back, drawing out each syllable in a parody of Clara’s accent. “Come on, Poppet, you don’t have to play Miss Posh-o with me. I watched you sittin’ up there with the rest of ‘em all afternoon. Not to mention-“ She leant forwards and gave a sharp tug at the scarlet fabric of her shawl and exposing her shoulders. “I mean, it looks <em>lovely</em> on you,” She drew out the word lovely with a smirk, “But I hardly think your boss would approve.”</p><p>Clara visibly deflated, dropping the act remarkably quick. “Whad’ya want then?”</p><p>That earned her another of those wicked smirks.</p><p>“Oh, nothing, dear. Just wanted to prove myself right.</p><p>“Right about what?”</p><p>“Right about you being nothing but a silly girl who’s bluffed her way into a good job.”</p><p>“Oi! I’m not-“</p><p>Missy cut her off. “Clara, they kept calling you. Suits you much better than Miss Montague. Sweet little <em>Clara</em>.”</p><p>She should probably have been offended, or worried- Missy could do a lot of damage with this kind of information, and she seemed spiteful enough to do it- but Clara found herself remarkably distracted by the sinful way her name rolled off of this woman’s tongue. She certainly shouldn’t have found it as enticing as she did- then again, she’d always <em>loved</em> an accent.</p><p>“Never said my name wasn’t Clara Montague.” She tried to argue back, looking around to make sure their conversation wasn’t being listened to.</p><p>“Nervous about your little friends finding out what a <em>wicked</em> little liar you are?”  Missy raised her voice slightly, and put enough emphasis on the word ‘wicked’ to send a shiver down Clara’s spine.</p><p>Looking around one more time, Clara noticed a few eyes on them. She glared at Missy, knowing how many questions this could raise; She didn’t need her friends judging her life choices just because one smug woman couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Missy’s hand, and quickly began to drag her towards the door, calling an excuse to the friends she’d been sitting with before. She dragged her into the alley behind the bar where they were far less likely to be overheard, looking up at her through the half-light.</p><p>“Ooh, you’re kidnapping me now? How exciting.” Missy drawled, making Clara drop her hand. She made no move to leave. “Should I have brought handcuffs?”</p><p>“I just don’ want you runnin’ your mouth off in there.” Clara crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes were blazing as they met Missy’s icy ones, but she wasn’t ready to back down. “You could get me in some real trouble.”</p><p>“Oh I <em>could</em>.” She looked delighted at the prospect. “And it would be so easy, too. Naughty little thing like you.”</p><p>There was something in the way Missy leant closer to her when she said the word naughty which had Clara’s heartrate speeding up, and the taller woman seemed to have noticed, judging by her wolfish grin. “Oh but you like that, don’t you Clara? You like me knowing what a <em>bad girl</em> you are?”</p><p>Clara took a few steps back, though she rather quickly found herself with her back to the wall.</p><p>“Stop that.” She said, though all of the fight from earlier had ebbed out of her voice.</p><p>“I don’t think you want me to, do you dear?” Missy was close now, close as she’d been that day in the park, except now with the wall behind her Clara couldn’t step back and clear her head. In honesty, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. There were fingers at her jaw, now, cupping her face firmly, with a thumb stroking uncharacteristically gentle over her soft skin. When the woman spoke again, her accent was a little thicker, and she was so close Clara could feel her breath against her skin. “Tell me to stop, Clara, and I’ll stop.”</p><p>It was Clara who closed the gap between them, and she got some small, satisfied thrill from the brief moment of panicked hesitation from Missy- she’d not been expecting that.</p><p>She’d kissed women before, once or twice, but never like this. That had always been fooling around with friends as a teenager, practicing snogging, this? This was intense. It wasn’t some quick peck in someone’s bedroom behind closed shutters, this was all tongues and teeth, and a partner who more than knew what she was doing. She’d gotten her few seconds of control but Missy was fighting back, and Clara soon felt herself giving in and letting her lead, her own fingers curling around the lapels of Missy’s ever-present coat for <em>something</em> to hold onto.</p><p>It didn’t take long for hands to start wandering- one of Missy’s moving from  Clara’s jaw to tangle in her hair and the other grasping far less respectably at her skirts. Hers, by contrast, stayed mostly at the woman’s waist- she was far out of her depth, and while she did let them dip a little lower as she began to feel more bold- well, this was uncharted territory for her.</p><p>In the end it was Missy that pulled back, and Clara found herself chasing her lips with a quiet whine. The sound brought a blush to her face, though between the ferocity of the kiss, and the fact that at some point Missy had shifted their positions so her thigh was pressed between Clara’s legs, and though the layers of skirts made it hard to feel much, it did make her uncomfortably aware of the dampness in her drawers.</p><p>When Clara finally got her breath back, she found Missy was once again giving her one of those insufferable smirks, though somehow it was a little more bearable after that.</p><p>“Bloomin’ hell, that was…” Clara managed, still breathing a little heavily.</p><p>“Hmm.” She hummed in agreement, dusting off her skirts. “Not that that wasn’t fun, dear.” She looked remarkably unruffled, at least compared to how Clara felt. “But I do fear we’re a teensy bit exposed out here- and it is getting on. Wouldn’t want to raise any eyebrows back home.”</p><p>“Oh- yeah. No, that’d be…” Clara trailed off, still a little stunned from the whole experience.</p><p>“I assume you take the children to St Peter’s on a Sunday?”</p><p>“I do, yeah. I’ve seen you there with-“ Clara was set to keep talking, but Missy pressed a finger to her lips.</p><p>“Hush now. Mummy’s talking.” She grinned, voice slightly sing-song in a way which had no rights to be as alluring as it was. It certainly wasn’t helping the way her drawers were clinging to her. “Do you think you’d be able to persuade Mr Latimer to let you go straight from the church?”</p><p>Clara went to open her mouth, but Missy shook her head and made a soft ‘ah ah’ sound like she was scolding a child, so she just nodded instead.</p><p>“Good. Good- we can leave together after the service. And as good as this-“ She placed her hands on Clara’s waist, “Looks very pretty on you, I can’t <em>wait</em> to take you apart when you’re acting all uppity again.”</p><p>Clara didn’t get the chance to say another word before she was disappearing off out of the side-street, leaving the flustered young governess to dust herself off and stumble back into the pub ready to say her goodbyes and head home, trying not to think how she’d have to wait another week to see that maddening woman again.</p><p> </p><p>If Clara was to claim those seven days of waiting hadn’t driven her just a little mad, she’d have been lying. She’d have also been lying if she said her fingers hadn’t slipped under her nightgown once or twice, in the dead of night, thinking about that kiss, and the woman who’d given it to her. Still, it didn’t mean that when Sunday rolled around she wasn’t nervous.</p><p>She’d had to mentally scold herself once or twice to stop herself from fidgeting through the whole service, and despite being seated a few rows ahead of the Davis family, she could practically feel Missy’s eyes boring into the back of her skull.</p><p>She wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting when she exited the church and Missy cheerfully linked arms with her, but it certainly wasn’t being marched straight to a third rate inn, and introduced to the proprietor as Missy’s niece as they booked a room. Of course, it made sense, really- both of them held lodgings at their work, so it wasn’t as though they could go there and do- well, <em>whatever</em> it was Missy had planned, and she supposed it was a damn sight better than that alley behind the Rose and Crown, but still. There was something that felt distinctly seedy about establishments like these.</p><p>“I don’ know abou’ this place.” She hummed, sitting down on the bead and watching as Missy fiddled with the locks on the door. “Doesn’t it seem a little…?”</p><p>“I know what you mean, dear-“ Missy picked at the yellowing curtains distastefully, before drawing those shut as well. “This is no place for a nice girl. Luckily I don’t see any nice girls in here.”</p><p>Clara cocked her head to one side playfully. “Oi! You sayin’ I’m not nice?”</p><p>“Oh I think I’ve made my stance on that issue very clear.”</p><p>“I almos’ forgot,” She leant forwards on her elbows, trying her best to mimic that specific tone Missy had in her voice when she said things like this, which made Clara melt. It didn’t quite work, but she did slip slightly into mimicking Missy’s accent on the final word, which did get her attention. “You think I’m <em>naughty</em>.”</p><p>“I think you’re an undisciplined brat who should be very careful about <em>mocking</em> me.”</p><p>Clara just barely stifled a laugh at the sharp edge to Missy’s voice. The last time she’d teased had gotten her the best kiss of her life so far, and now they were alone? Well she wasn’t above prodding the hornet’s nest to find out how much more fun they could have.</p><p>“Whas’ your name, by the way?” She asked, still sitting on the bed and watching Missy fuss.</p><p>“Missy.”</p><p>“Well yeah, I know it’s Missy, but whas’ it short for? Can’t just be Missy. Whas’ your last name?”</p><p>“What’s yours, Miss <em>Montague</em>?” Missy countered, disbelief dripping from the last word. She couldn’t have made it plainer she hadn’t bought the alias for a moment.</p><p>“Oswald.” Clara conceded. “Clara Oswin Oswald.”</p><p>“<em>Clara Oswald.</em>”</p><p>“Missy…?” She drew each letter out, curious.</p><p>“Mistress.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Missy gave her a look as though she was very stupid indeed. “Missy. It’s short for Mistress.”</p><p>Clara laughed. “Mistress o’ what?”</p><p>“Mistress of wicked girls like you.” There were a few seconds pause, before she gave Clara yet another exasperated look. “Well then? Are you planning on staying like that the whole time? Pop your clothes on the chair.”</p><p>“Hang on, what-“</p><p>Missy shushed her. “Do we have to go through the whole naivety act? Because I don’t believe for a minute that you thought we were coming up here to have tea. Just because you dress like a nice respectable girl doesn’t make you one.”</p><p>Clara actually blushed faintly at that one. Of course she’d known but- well. Knowing and being told to undress so casually by a woman she barely liked most days were a very different thing.</p><p>When she didn’t move into action, Missy did pause, and for a second she looked at her, a little concerned. “If you’ve changed your mind-“</p><p>“No, no I haven’t.” Clara insisted a little too quickly.</p><p>“Because I’m not-“ She looked as though she were struggling with how to phrase this next part kindly, “This isn’t- This. All of this. If you want to walk out now, it stays between us.”</p><p>Clara looked at her for a log moment, before her fingers moved to begin unfastening the buttons running down the front of her dress. She didn’t miss the way that Missy’s lips turned up at that one.</p><p>“Good girl.” She murmured, seemingly half to herself.</p><p>“Thought I was a bad girl?” Clara responded, teasingly.</p><p>“No dear, I’m a bad girl.” Missy fixed her with one of those dangerous looks again, the smile still playing across her face. “You’re just a silly wee thing who hasn’t learned not to chat back to her Mistress yet.”</p><p>“Oh so you’re <em>my</em> Mistress now, are you?” Clara asked, still working the layers of her clothing off. It hadn’t escaped her that the older woman was still fully dressed.</p><p>“Do you want me to be?” Missy hadn’t once looked away from her, stepping over to help her with laying her skirts out so they wouldn’t look a crumpled mess when they left, before switching to rather gently unlacing her corset.</p><p>“I dunno. Will I get more kisses like that one behind the Crown?”</p><p>“Oh you’ll get a lot more than that if you’re good.”</p><p>“And if ‘m not good?”</p><p>“You’ll have to learn a thing or two about discipline.”</p><p>Clara laughed at that, pulling her chemise over her head and setting it over the arm of the chair. “What’re you goin’a do? Put me over your knee?”</p><p>“You don’t think I would?”</p><p>The look on Missy’s face left Clara a little less sure about what she would and wouldn’t do.</p><p>“Would you?”</p><p>“Would you let me?”</p><p>There was a pause. It wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind, but Clara kept thinking back to the roughness of that kiss, and the way her teeth had tugged at her lower lip and the thrill that slight stinging had sent through her.</p><p>“I’ll try anythin’ once.” She eventually conceded.</p><p>“Dangerous words around me, Poppet.” Missy almost purred and Clara could see her eyes raking hungrily over her exposed breasts before they settled on her drawers. “Those too.”</p><p>She turned around, fumbling with the ties on her drawers for a moment or so before shedding those too, a little embarrassed at the damp patch already visible on the fabric despite not having even been touched yet. When she looked back up, Missy was sitting perched expectantly on the edge of the book, eyebrows raised at Clara. She tapped her lap as if what she wanted was plain, and, already knowing what she was being asked, Clara complied.</p><p>Trying her best to maintain some kind of dignity became a little tricky when she was faced with a situation like this, but Clara certainly tried, settling herself across her lap. Of course, any hope of remaining dignified was rather quickly ruined when the older woman decided to run a finger over the length of her slit as her hand caressed her backside, feeling just how wet she already was.</p><p>“Hmm. All this just from me teasing you, dear?” Missy’s clever fingers probed her entrance briefly, before she pulled the slick digits back.</p><p>The first slap came hard and fast, the harsh crack of flesh-on-flesh filling the room along with a soft yelp from Clara. The hand worked gently to rub the stinging away, and just as she’d hoped heat was pooling between her thighs again, just as it had in the alley.</p><p>“Did you like that?” Two fingers found her entrance again, and Clara’s breath hitched as shty skirted past her clit. Of course you did; A dirty wee thing like you knows her place. Count for Mistress, dearie.”</p><p>“One.”</p><p>No sooner had the word left her lips than she was being smacked again. though not quite as hard, this time- as though the first had just been a test to see how much she could take. Once again Missy first soothed over the reddened area, before beginning to toy with her clit.</p><p>“Two.”</p><p>“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Missy cooed softly, after delivering the third slap, her other hand resting on Clara’s back to steady the girl. “I can see how wet you are for me.”</p><p>“Three.” Was all Clara said in return, though the slight strain in her voice was as good as a confirmation.</p><p>Missy grinned, and brought her hand down again.</p><p>“Four.”</p><p>“How many do you think, dear? I’d say ten is a good number, this time. You were rather cheeky, but-“ Another smack, this time electing a groan which soon turned into a whine as Missy rubbed slow, neat circles over her clit in the aftermath.</p><p>“Five.”</p><p>“-it is your first punishment, and you are taking it like a good girl.”</p><p>“S-Six.” Clara managed, stammering a little.</p><p>“You look very pretty like this, you know. It’s much more you than all that fake respectability.”</p><p>The count for the next slap was muffled against Missy’s skirt.</p><p>“You look like such a pretty little girl who’s finally learning her place. Because you’re not really a governess, are you? You’re just a little brat-“ She punctuated the sentence with another slap, and another muffled number from Clara. “An undisciplined little brat who needs a firm hand to keep her from getting into trouble.”</p><p>Clara let out a keening noise against the other woman’s skirts which might have been her trying to count the nineth smack, though it was debatable. Her slit was dripping wet now, leaving her thighs slick with arousal as the tenth hit was marked with a squeal.</p><p>“Good girl.” Missy praised softly, her full attention now focused between Clara’s thighs, rather than on her reddened, stinging backside.</p><p>Clara let out a long, low moan as the woman’s fingers finally actually entered her, her thighs spreading as much as they could in her current position. It seemed to be enough, based on how quickly Missy’s fingers found a rhythm, pumping inside of her with a level of expertise that made Clara doubt this was the first time Missy had done this kind of thing- not that she could focus on much beyond what was happening between her legs as she was drawn to a quick, messy orgasm.</p><p>“That was-“ She managed, breathless.</p><p>“I know, dear.” Missy sounded smug. Honestly, after that, Clara couldn’t really blame her.</p><p>Missy rather gently helped her, still naked as the day she was born, into the bed, petting her hair gently and whispering soothing words into the weak half-light filtering through the curtains.</p><p>“Don’tcha want me to…?” Clara asked once she’d properly come down, watching Missy wash herself off at the bason in the corner with a little smile.</p><p>Missy shook her head, though she was looking at Clara fondly. “Not this time, Dearie. I fear I’ve tired you out.”</p><p>As though to prove her right, Clara yawned.</p><p>“M’not that tired.”</p><p>“Sleep.”  Missy moved to sit on the edge of the bed, stroking Clara’s hair back off of her face. “You have a few hours before you’ll be expected home, and you can hardly walk back in this state.”</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“Next time.” She promised.</p><p>“There’s gonna be a next time?”</p><p>Missy leant down and pressed a quick, surprisingly tender kiss to Clara’s lips. “If you still want there to be.”</p><p>“’Course I do.” She muttered sleepily, as though that much were obvious.</p><p>Missy stood up again, straightening her clothing one last time, before moving towards the doorway. “Until the next time, then, Clara Oswald.”</p><p>Clara kept her eyes open just long enough to watch her slip out of the room.</p><p>Maybe she could learn to like that infuriating woman after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The title comes from Brimstone and Treacle (Part Two) from Mary Poppins because what else would this one be?.</p><p>I recognise fully that you are a bully,<br/>Who views cruel deeds as a perk!<br/>Well now here's a catch<br/>Because you've met your match.<br/>Brimstone and treacle (Brimstone and treacle)<br/>Brimstone and treacle won't work!</p><p>Title playlist for all of my Femslash Febuary oneshots can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CUnm7fntJlE2mlfQv4jvJ?si=8_tTLDsDRYyC2t9tyOUPDA</p></blockquote></div></div>
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